L.A. Requiem

by Robert Crais

  The big man slammed backward, hitting the kitchen floor with a wheeezing grunt, and then there was silence.

  The moment was absolutely still until Joe hunched again, and that's when Paulette saw the blood spreading on Joe's back like some great red rose.

  She said, “OhmyLord! Joe!”

  Joe winced when he tried to straighten, then looked at Paulette, and smiled. She hadn't seen that smile in so many years that her heart filled and she wanted to cry, though the smile was small and hurt.

  He said, “Gotta go now, Paulette. You take care of your baby.”

  Joe Pike held her gaze for another moment, then turned away as the large man sat straight up on the kitchen floor as if rising from the dead and shot Joe again.

  Joe Pike fell hard.

  * * *

  The two women finally arrive, and Sobek eases down the hill to Paulette's house. He knows from watching that none of the neighbors are home, so he strolls up the drive and into Paulette Wozniak's garage without fear of being seen.

  He creeps through the garage past Paulette Wozniak's ticking car, and puts his ear to the utility door, but doesn't hear anything. He knows that doors like this usually open to a laundry room or a kitchen, and decides to take the chance that Pike and the others aren't poised on the other side. He turns the knob, then cracks the door, and sees a washer and dryer.

  He can hear voices now, and then a woman shouts, “What could you possibly have to say? You killed him! Mother, he's wanted! He just murdered someone else!”

  Sobek grips the .357, pulls back the hammer, then eases into the laundry. He peeks into the kitchen. No one. He creeps through the kitchen, careful not to make any noise, getting closer and closer to the voices until they are just around the corner in the family room. Two women and the Pikester.

  Sobek takes a deep breath, then another, then steps around the corner and shoots Joe Pike in the back.

  Ka-Boom!

  The .357 kicks harder than the little .22s, and before he can shoot again Pike has a gun in his hands and fires BAMBAMBAM. Three bricks hit Sobek in the chest all at the same time, knocking him flat on his ass, and making him see stars.

  He thinks he is dead, then realizes that the Kevlar vest he's wearing under the sweatshirt has saved him. Most cops wear lightweight vests designed to stop common rounds like the 9mm or .45, but Sobek wears the heavier model, rated at stopping anything up to and including the .44 Magnum.

  Control.

  He hears voices. They're talking. Pike is still alive, but wounded.

  Second chance.

  Sobek sits up and shoots Joe Pike again even as the younger woman screams.

  Pike drops like a bag of wet laundry, and Sobek says, “Cool!”

  The older woman falls to her knees beside Pike and grabs for his gun, but Sobek runs forward and kicks her in the ribs. He is dizzy from the hits that he's taken, but his kick is solid and upends her.

  A red pool spreads through Pike's shirt.

  Sobek looks at Paulette Wozniak, then the younger woman. “Are you Abel Wozniak's daughter?”

  Neither of them answer.

  Sobek points the .357 at the older one, and the younger one says, “Yes.”

  “Okay. Let's get a couple of chairs, and you two sit down.”

  Sobek feels disoriented and nauseated from the chest trauma, but he tapes their wrists and ankles to two wooden dining-room chairs and puts more tape over their mouths. Then he peels off his shirt and vest to inspect his wounds. The entire center of his chest is a throbbing purple bruise. The bullets probably broke some ribs. Christ, that Pike can shoot. All three bullets would've been in his heart.

  Sobek spits on Pike's body, and screams, “FUCK YOU!”

  The screaming makes his head spin worse, and he has to sit or throw up. When the spinning subsides, he considers the women.

  “You're next.”

  He is thinking about how best to kill them when he hears a car door out front and sees two deputies strolling toward the house.

  Sobek drags the two women into a back room to hide them even as the doorbell rings. He puts on his shirt, not even thinking of the three bullet holes, and hurries to the door as it rings again. He plasters on a big smile, opens the door with a surprised expression, and says, “Oh, wow, the Highway Patrol. Are we under arrest?”

  The two deps stare at him for a moment, and then the closer one smiles. Friendly and getting the joke. “Is Mrs. Renfro at home?”

  “Oh, sure. She's my aunt. Did you want to see her?”

  “Yes, if we could.”

  “Come on in out of that heat and I'll bring you back. She's in the pool.”

  The other dep smiles then and takes off his campaign hat. He says, “Man, I could go for some of that.”

  Sobek nods, and smiles wider. “Hey, why not? I'll get you guys a beer or a soft drink, if you like.”

  He holds the door and lets them step past him into the living room, then closes the door, takes out his .357, and shoots both deputies in the back, puts the gun to their heads, and shoots them again.

  38

  • • •

  Verdugo to Palm Springs was less than an hour. Paulette didn't answer when I called, which none of us liked, but I left word on her machine that she should drive directly to the Palm Springs Police Department and wait for us there.

  During the drive, Krantz spoke several times on the radio, once getting a report that sheriffs had arrived on scene at Paulette's, and that everything was fine.

  We left the interstate at North Palm Springs and drove directly to Paulette's house in the hills above the windmills. A clean new sedan that I didn't recognize was parked in the drive. The garage door was down, and no other cars were parked on the block. The house, like the neighborhood, was still.

  I said, “I thought the sheriffs were supposed to be here.”

  “They were.”

  Krantz got on his radio and told someone to confirm with the sheriffs, then have them send another car.

  We parked beside the sedan, and got out. Williams said, “Goddamn. It's hot as hell out here.”

  We didn't make it to the front door. We were passing the big picture window when all three of us saw the body in the family room, and a cold sweat broke over my back and legs even in the awful desert heat.

  “That's Joe.”

  Williams said, “She-it.”

  Krantz fumbled out his gun. “Jerome, radio back. Tell'm we need cars right goddamned now. I don't care who. Tell'm to send an ambulance.”

  Williams ran back to the unit.

  Two swerving blood trails led out of the living room through the family room and into the kitchen. I couldn't see any other bodies, but I thought it might be Paulette and Evelyn. Then I saw that the sliding back doors were open.

  “I'm going in, Krantz.”

  “Goddamnit, we gotta wait for backup. He might still be in there.”

  “Those people might be bleeding to death. I'm going in.”

  The front door was locked. I trotted around the side of the house, popping fast peeks through every window I came to, not seeing anything unusual until I found Paulette and Evelyn in the rear corner bedroom. They were taped to chairs with duct tape covering their wrists and ankles and mouths, and struggling to get free. I tapped on the glass, and their eyes went wide. Evelyn struggled harder, but Paulette stared at me. I made a calming gesture, then spread my hands, asking if Sobek was in the house.

  Paulette nodded.

  I mouthed, “Where?”

  Paulette shook her head. She didn't know.

  I moved along the rear of the house to the glass doors, dropped into a push-up position, and peeked inside. Joe was slumped on his side, the back of his shirt damp with blood. I was trying to see if his chest was moving when I heard a voice. The two blood trails ran past Pike through the kitchen and into the laundry room; that's where the voice came from. I looked at Pike again, and this time the tears started and my nose clogged, but I made the tears stop.


  Krantz came toward me from the opposite side of the house, stopping on the other side of the doors. He had his gun out, holding it with both hands. “I've got units and paramedics on the way.”

  “Paulette and her daughter are alive in the room at the end of the hall. I'm hearing something in the garage. You get them out of here, okay? Get them safe.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Someone's in the garage.”

  Krantz swallowed, and I could see then that he heard the voice. “Ah, maybe I should do that.”

  I liked him then, for maybe the first time. “I'm better, Harvey. I'll do it. Okay?”

  He stared at me, and then he nodded.

  “Just get them out of the house. Where's Williams?”

  “Covering the front.”

  “He got a radio?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell him we're going inside and not to shoot me, then get those women.”

  I stepped through the doors. The smell of blood was thin, and raw, and the great black desert flies had already found their way into the house. Pike was out in the center of the floor, but I did not go to him. I stayed near the walls, trying to see as many doors as possible.

  I whispered, “Just us, buddy.”

  The blood trails arced through the kitchen and into a laundry room, where they stopped at a closed door. The voice was behind the door. Maybe Sobek was sitting in the garage talking to the bodies. Lunatics do that.

  Here's what you do: You open the door, or you walk away and wait for the Palm Springs PD. If you walk away, then whoever is in the garage bleeds to death and you have to live with that, and with knowing you didn't go in because you were scared. These are the choices.

  I closed my eyes, and whispered, “I don't want to get shot.”

  Then I hammered back my pistol, took six fast breaths, and went in.

  Sobek's red Cherokee was parked directly in front of me, the sheriff's car next to it, both engines ticking. The two deps were in the front seat of their car, the remains of their heads slumped together in death. The voice was coming from their radio. I looked under both cars, then glanced into their backseats. Sobek wasn't there.

  I closed the utility door behind me, and went back into the kitchen. Krantz had freed Paulette and her daughter. They were behind him, just coming into the family room from the hall. I thought we were going to make it. I thought that we'd get them out of there, and safe, but that's when Jerome Williams shouted something from somewhere outside, and two fast shots cracked through the house.

  Krantz shouted, “Jerome!”

  Laurence Sobek ran out of a doorway at the end of the hall and in that crazy moment might have been Joe Pike; large and powerful, and dressed as Pike used to dress, even down to the sunglasses. But not. This was a mutant Pike, an anti-Pike, distorted and swollen and ugly. He didn't look like Curtis Wood now; he looked more like the inbred villain in a slasher movie.

  Paulette, Evelyn, and Krantz were in the line of fire between me and Sobek. I yelled, “DOWN! GET DOWN!”

  Krantz shoved Paulette out of the way, aimed past Evelyn, and fired twice, hitting Sobek in the big torso both times.

  Sobek came off the wall firing blindly, his bullets hitting the floor and the ceiling. One of his rounds caught me under the right arm with a hard slap, knocked away my gun, and spun me into the refrigerator.

  Paulette ran to her daughter, again blocking Krantz's line of fire.

  I yelled, “Head shot, Krantz! The head! He's wearing a vest!”

  Sobek charged straight down the hall, and barreled into Paulette, wrapping her in his arms and knocking Evelyn aside. He was crying, and his eyes were hopping as if his brain was on fire. He put his gun to her head.

  “I'm not done yet. I'm not done.”

  Krantz yelled, “Drop your gun! Put it down, Curtis!”

  My arm felt wet and tingly, as if worms were crawling beneath the skin. I tried to pick up my gun, but the arm wouldn't work.

  Sobek jammed his weapon harder into Paulette's neck. “You drop your own fuckin' gun, Krantz! You put it down or I'll kill this bitch. I'll do it, you bastard. I'll do it right fuckin' now!”

  Krantz backed up, his gun shaking so badly that if he fired he would as likely hit Paulette as Sobek. I think Krantz knew that, too.

  I tried to pick up my gun with my left hand. Sobek didn't even seem to know I was there anymore. He was focused on Krantz.

  “I MEAN IT GODDAMNIT KRANTZ I'M GONNA DO IT I'M GONNA DO IT RIGHT NOW BLOW HER BRAINS OUT AND THEN I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE!”

  It is against LAPD policy for an officer to give up his or her weapon. They teach that at the Academy, they live by it, and it is the right thing to teach and live by. You give up your weapon, and you're done.

  But if you don't do what Laurence Sobek says, and someone dies, you will always wonder. It is another choice and another door, and you won't know what lies behind it until you go there.

  He was going to kill her.

  “Okay, Curtis. Just let her go and we'll talk. I'm putting the gun down like you want. Just don't hurt her, Curtis. Please do not hurt her.”

  Krantz put his gun on the floor, and for the second time that day I liked Harvey Krantz.

  I spoke quietly. “Sobek? Why'd you kill Dersh? He wasn't part of this?”

  Crazy eyes danced to me. “Pike killed Dersh. Don't you watch the news?”

  Krantz said, “Shut up, Cole. Curtis, put down the gun. Please.”

  Sobek walked Paulette closer to Krantz, shaking his head. “I'm not done yet. They're going to pay for the Coopster. They're going to pay for that.”

  Behind Sobek, Pike moved.

  I said, “Tell us about Dersh, Sobek. Tell us why you set up Pike.”

  Sobek pointed his gun at me, and cocked the hammer. “I didn't.”

  Pike's eyes opened.

  Krantz said, “Damnit, Cole, shut up. Curtis, don't kill him. Let this woman go.”

  Pike pushed himself up. His face was a mask of blood. His shirt was wet with it. He picked up his gun.

  Sobek said, “She's gotta die, and Wozniak's kid is gonna die, too. But you know what, Harvey?”

  “What?”

  Sobek aimed his .357 point-blank at Harvey Krantz.

  “You're gonna die first.”

  I said, “DeVille isn't dead.”

  Laurence Sobek stopped as if I'd hit him with a board. His face filled with rage, he aimed his gun at me again, then brought it back to Krantz. I could see his gun hand tighten.

  He said, “This is for killing my father.”

  Krantz yelled, “NO!”

  Sobek was squeezing the trigger when Joe Pike brought up his weapon and fired one round through the back of Laurence Sobek's head. Sobek collapsed in a heap, and then there was silence.

  Pike fell forward onto his hands, and almost at once tried to push himself up again.

  Paulette said, “Joe, lie down. Please lie down.”

  Krantz just stood there. I could hear the sirens far away now, but drawing closer.

  I struggled to my feet and went to Joe. Blood ran down my arm and dripped from my fingers.

  “Stay down, Joseph. Got an ambulance on the way.”

  Pike said, “No. If I go down now, I'll spend the rest of my life in prison. Right, Krantz?”

  Krantz said, “You're going to bleed to death.”

  Pike found his feet and stood, using Paulette to steady himself. He put his pistol into the waistband of his pants, then looked at me. “You're shot.”

  “You're shot twice.”

  Pike nodded. “It's so easy to show you up.”

  He staggered then, but I caught him.

  Paulette said, “Please, Joe.” She was crying.

  Pike was looking at me. “Maybe there'll be something at Sobek's to put him with Dersh.”

  “There wasn't.”

  Pike looked tired. He took a handkerchief from his pants, but the blood had soaked through and it was red.r />
  Paulette Wozniak said, “Oh, damn.”

  She pulled off her shirt and used it to wipe his face. She was wearing a white bra, but nobody looked or said anything, and I thought in that moment I could love her myself, truly and always.

  The corner of Joe's mouth twitched, and he touched her face. “Gotta go.”

  Paulette blinked at the tears.

  Joe let his fingers linger. “You really are more beautiful.”

  Then he turned away for the door, leaving his fingerprints in blood on her face.

  Krantz said, “I can't let you go, Pike. I appreciate what you did, and I'll stand up at your trial, but for now it's over.”

  Krantz had his gun again. He was pale, and shaken, but he had the gun.

  I said, “Don't be stupid, Krantz.”

  “It's over.”

  Pike kept walking.

  Krantz aimed his gun, but it was shaking as badly now as when he was aiming at Sobek. “I mean it, Pike. You're a wanted man. You are under arrest, and you're going to stand trial. I won't let you leave this house.”

  Krantz steadied the gun with his second hand, and pulled back the hammer, and that's when I twisted the gun away from him with my good hand. I shoved him against the wall.

  Krantz screamed, “You're interfering with an officer, goddamnit! You're obstructing justice!”

  Pike walked out the front door without closing the door, and then he was gone.

  I said, “Goodbye, Joe.”

  Krantz slumped to the floor and put his face in his hands. The sirens were working their way up the hill and would soon arrive. They would probably pass Pike on their way up, and I wondered if any of them would notice the car driven by the bloody man. Probably not.

  Krantz said, “You shouldn't've done that, Cole. You aided and abetted his escape. I'm going to arrest you. It's going to cost your license.”

  I nodded.

  “You didn't help him, you asshole. He's going to bleed to death. He's going to die.”

  The sirens arrived.

  39

  • • •

  Of the two shots Sobek fired at Jerome Williams, only one connected, nipping an artery in his thigh. He would make it. My own wound was a bit more complicated. The bullet had torn through the outside of my right pectoral muscle, clipped the third lateral rib, then exited through my right latissimus dorsi. One of the hospital's resident surgeons came down to take a look, and said, “Hmm.”